


Run-In with Fate

by alexandriakeating



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, For the most part, M/M, Makkachin is the best matchmaker, Pre-Episode 1, Sochi GPF, banquet scene, it fits within the anime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-11 13:15:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8981248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexandriakeating/pseuds/alexandriakeating
Summary: Yuuri decides to run off his nerves before his first Grand Prix Final when a familiar dog knocks him over.(What if Yuuri had met Victor before the start of Episode 1?)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea popped into my head, so I had to write it down. It's just a short little work I typed up and published. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Celestino slept on as Yuuri began shuffling around at 5:30 the morning before the Grand Prix Final Short Program. His nerves fired through every muscle in his body. His fingers twitched, his heart raced, and his feet couldn’t stay in place.

Zipping up his track jacket, Yuuri left a note for his coach telling him he went for a run. He stuck his headphones into his ears, shuffled his playlist, and headed out.

The Black Sea was only a few minutes away. The cold air blowing off the water stirred in his lungs. His breath came out in steady puffs of clouds. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine he was back in Hasetsu. Maybe he was just running to the Ice Palace. Things were fine, and he wasn’t just about to compete against Victor in the GPF.

His heart startled as he choked back a laugh.

He was going to skate on the same ice as Victor!

Yuuri kept running where there were lights until he stumbled on a brick path along the sea lit by black lamps.

Raising his eyebrows, he plucked out one of his headphones and stepped to the edge. Over the concrete edge, dark waves smashed into black rocks. Lights from a boat blinked out in the early morning on distant waves. He took a deep breath of sea seasoned air and felt his shoulders relax.

A dog barked to his left. Nails clacked against the brick.

“Huh?”

Yuuri fell backwards. He narrowly managed to arch his neck to avoid smashing his head against the ground.

A mound of fur draped itself over him. Two heavy paws stood on his chest. A wet nose nudged at his cheeks, knocking his glasses askew.

He laughed. His fingers nestled in the dog’s curly fur. Yuuri scratched him behind the ears. “Well, hello there,” he cooed. He sat up and continued petting the dog that stretched out across his lap. He ran his fingers down the dog’s back. “Well, you’ve got a clean coat. Where’s your owner, huh, buddy?”

Squeezing the dog’s face, he studied his features in the dim light.

“You - ” he stumbled out, “look a lot like Vicchan.” He gave a nervous laugh. “Is that you Vicchan? Couldn’t stay away too long, huh?” He buried his face in the dog’s neck. Wrapping his arms around the dog, he squeezed. “I’m sorry, Vicchan,” he whispered.

He sat up, taking a deep breath to damn the prickling sensation quelling behind his eyes. “You forgive me, right?”

The dog’s tail thumped against the ground. He let out a bark and licked Yuuri’s chin. He chuckled and wiped his face off.

This dog was bigger than Vicchan, but he looked so similar.

A strange idea snuck into the back of his mind, but he shook it off.

“Makkachin!” cried an exasperated voice.

Yuuri froze. The smile curling at his lips slipped away.

No. It couldn’t be. No. _No_. No.

He lifted his head to see Victor running towards him. His trench coat flapped behind him. The lower half of his face was buried in a thick, green scarf. His pale hair glowed under the lamplight.

Yuuri’s heart stuttered. His fingers clenched Makkachin’s fur.

Victor slowed to a stop in front of him. A scolding frown pulled out his lips. He point a finger at the entangled man and dog. A string a Russian poured from him.

Yuuri had no idea what he was saying, but he hoped he wasn’t upset with him. He couldn’t handle that.

The frown vanished from Victor’s face, replaced by a winning smile. He tilted his head to the side; his eyes scrunched up. Yuuri assumed he addressed him now, but he still couldn’t be sure.

Victor stopped talking and waited for him to respond.

Yuuri took a breath but found he couldn’t say anything.

His eyes widened. “Oh! English?” Victor exclaimed.

He managed to nod.

Victor switched languages without a second thought. “I’m sorry if Makkachin caused any problems. He’s usually well-behaved.”

“Uh - ” Yuuri’s jaw worked, but no coherent sound came out. He coughed and shook his head. “No - no problem. I like dogs,” he said lamely.

Victor laughed and squatted down across from him. He reached out a gloved hand and scratched Makkachin behind the ear. “Me, too,” he said.  “He should know better than to run away from me by now.” He bumped his forehead against Makkachin’s neck; his voice grew soft. “You shouldn’t scare me like that. You’re too old for this.”

Yuuri felt like he was intruding by listening to Victor, but he still spoke English. He would’ve switched to Russian if he hadn’t wanted him to understand, right?

“Are you on vacation?” Victor shifted to sit on the cold bricks next to Yuuri. His long legs stretched out in front of them. Yuuri self-consciously curled his legs tighter underneath him.

Makkachin crawled in between them. He rested his head on Victor’s knee.  He petted him absentmindedly as he kept his eyes trained on Yuuri, waiting for an answer.

“No.” Yuuri shook his head. “Grand Prix Final.”

His eyes lit up. “Oh? A fan?”

Nodding, Yuuri answered, “Yes,” not bothering to correct or fully explain things to Victor.

Victor flicked his bangs from his eye. “One of mine?”

“Yes,” Yuuri squeaked out.

He laughed and widened his smile. It felt practiced, and Yuuri felt his heart dip. “I’m always happy when my fans come see me.” He gave Yuuri a small salute. “Wish me luck!”

“Of course!” Yuuri spluttered. He wanted to ask for him to wish him luck as well, but he thought it over again. Even with Victor’s luck, his skating really wouldn’t improve that much. May as well not ask Victor to share his luck. It belonged with him.

Briefly, Victor’s smile softened as he turned away and leaned back against the concrete barricade. He tilted his head up.

In the distance, seagulls hollered. Their noisy chatter filled the space between them while they both stroked Makkachin.

Yuuri darted a glance out the corner of his eyes. Victor had shut his eyes. The corner of his lips pulled down slightly. The skin between his brow puckered. Wetting his lips, Yuuri opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but he shook his head and thought better of it. He looked down at his lap instead. His hand went too forward and brushed against the back of Victor’s hand.

Panicking, he yanked his hand back and resolutely kept his gaze away from Victor.

Victor sighed. “Ah. Stole a brush against my hand, hm?” He stood and whistled. Makkachin leapt up, bounding around Victor’s heels.  The heels of his shoes clacked against the bricks as he walked away.

Yuuri lifted his eyes to see Victor’s retreating form. He paused for a moment and tossed a look over his shoulder back at him. “Find me after I win gold, and I may even let you steal a photo.”  He winked and kept walking off the way he came.

Yuuri sat on the path until Victor and Makkachin had disappeared from eyesight. Sunlight had started creeping into the sky when he finally stood up and began to make his way back to the hotel on wobbly knees.

He could do this. It was a sign of great things to come. He was going to do well and be a hero for Hasetsu.

He had met Victor.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor finds that he was wrong in assuming the man he met on his morning walk was only a fan. After the GPF, he finds out that he couldn't have been more wrong. This man was a skater whose being oozed passion, fun, and life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here ya'll go! I was not expected the reaction I got from the first chapter. Thank you all so much!
> 
> I hadn't been planning on following it up, but so many wanted to know what Victor's reaction was going to be. Ya'll got me starting to wonder how everything that happened in Sochi would be in Victor's mind if chapter one had happened. So, here you go! This features the famous banquet scene! Was that something to write...

A familiar mop of hair and glasses caught the corner of Victor’s eye. A smile pulled at his lips. He turned around with the flourish of the hand.

The man from a few mornings ago blinked at him.

“A commemorative photo? Sure,” Victor cheered with a wink. He had been hoping to catch the man again on his morning walks with Makkachin, but he hadn’t managed to run into him.

The man’s eyes widened behind his glasses. A light blush splattered across his cheeks.

Victor’s smile grew. He waited for him to pull out his phone and step under the rope, but the man only ducked his head and sulked off. Victor narrowed his eyes in confusion. 

What happened?

His eyes fell on the suitcase the man dragged behind him as he shuffled off. His heart dropped as a frown creased his face.

_ A skater - and a fan?  _ The thought tumbled over in Victor’s mind. He chewed on his confusion and disappointment for a moment.

Victor slapped his smallest neighbor’s back. “Yuri.” 

The young, blond skater spun on him, shouting, “What?” 

“Do you know who that is?” Victor pointed.

“Who?”

He grabbed Yuri by the shoulders, stooped to his eye-level and pointed at the man’s retreating form. “Him. He is a skater, yes?”

“He was in the Men’s Singles with you. How dumb are you?”

“Really?”

“Yes. Why do you care? He came in last. He doesn’t even deserve to share my name,” Yuri huffed, raising his arms and locking his fingers together behind his head.

“Now, you don’t mean that Yuri.”

“Yes, I do! Idiot doesn’t win so he cries in the bathroom stall! He won’t get better by doing that,” Yuri huffed. He adjusted his bag and turned his attention back to Yakov.

Victor’s fingers twitched, scraping at the handle of his suitcase. The realization that he had failed to recognize a fellow skater weighed heavily in his stomach. He scratched his cheek, looking for something to occupy himself with. Clearing his throat, he turned and pulled up closer to Yakov and tried to focus his attention on whatever he was droning on about.

Once he returned to his hotel room, he abandoned his suitcase and pulled out his phone searching up Yuuri Katsuki. His brows puckered as he studied the skater’s GPF performance. His eyes were distant. His face pulled away from his performance. Despite how engaging the flow of Yuuri’s body was, something tugged at the corner of the skater’s mind and distracted a trained eye from the performance. With each failed jump, each time his hand brushed the ice, his eyes narrowed, his shoulders tensed, and the skater pulled himself further away from his program. He looked like he was in pain.

Dropping his phone on the pillow by his head, he rolled onto his side and wrapped his arms around Makkachin. He rubbed the dog’s sides. 

“How about I skip the banquet, boy? And we can just go home early.”

Makkachin pressed his nose against Victor’s cheek and crawled closer to him. He whined.

“Hm. I know. I have to.” He squeezed tighter. “But I wish I could stay at you.”

* * *

Victor spun the thin stem of his glass in his fingers. He held it up to his lips; the cold glass brushed against the sensitive skin. 

He didn’t take a sip, but he kept the glass in place.

His lids pulled heavy over his eyes. He kept his smile painted on. 

An elbow jabbed into his side.

“Try to at least look like you’re having fun,” Yuri grumbled.

A real smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He waved his glass of champagne around. “I am enjoying myself, young Yuri.”

He scoffed. “Idiot. You look constipated. I thought you were supposed to be great at this sort of thing”

Victor chuckled and winked. “I am great. Thank you so much for noticing.”

Yuri rolled his eyes.

“Try to enjoy yourself, yeah?” A rough voice came from behind him.

Arching an eyebrow, Victor glanced behind him.

Celestino had his arm draped over a drooping Yuuri Katsuki. “What’s wrong, Yuuri?” he asked. “You made it to the GPF. Try to have fun.”

Yuuri groaned and nodded. 

Grabbing a passing waiter, Celestino snatched two flutes of champagne and handed one to Yuuri. “Drink.”

The man panicked, waving off his coach. “Oh no. I don’t.”

Celestino tipped the glass towards him. “You sure? One won’t hurt.”

Hesitantly, Yuuri accepted the glass. 

He clapped him on the back. “You okay on your own.”

Yuuri nodded as his coach headed off.

“Hey. Victor!” Fingers snapped in front of his eyes.

Victor snapped back to the young boy frowning next to him. “Hm?”

“Why are you paying attention to that idiot?”

Leaning his arm on his shoulder, he said, “Why, Yuri, are you jealous that I have found another?”

“There is only one Yuri,” he complained, shruging Victor’s arm off. He huffed and crossed his arms over his chest as he walked off.

Victor only laughed. His eyes drifted back over the banquet crowd. The other Yuuri had drifted off towards the edge of the room. He kept his back to the gathering. One empty glass sat on a table next to him, and he was in the middle downing another. 

He pursed his lips together. 

An arm wrapped around his chest. “Victor, there you are. I thought you were hiding from me.”

Victor’s hand came up to brush Chris’ arm. “I would never hide from you, Christophe.”

A stubbly cheek rubbed against his. “Glad to hear it. Now, tell me, why are your eyes straying to that Japanese skater. Am I not enough for you?”

His eyes fell away from Yuuri. He hadn’t even realized his gaze had drifted back to him. “You are more than enough to handle.”

Christophe laughed and let go of him. “Don’t you know it.”

“Where’s the boyfriend?” Victor asked, taking a sip of his champagne. The bubbles tickled his nose.

He pouted. “Off being boring and talking business.” A sly smirk curled his lips. He tilted his head to watch Yuuri. “He is kind of cute. In an innocent way. I didn’t think he’d be your type.”

“And what would my type be? You?” Victor teased.

Chris shrugged. “I can’t help that I am the ideal specimen.”

Victor laughed. “Your confidence is inspiring.”

Yuri slunked back over, hands shoved deep in his pockets and a scowl pulling at his lips. “I don’t like parties,” he declared.

Smiling, Chris wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “They get better when you can drink, little one,” he said with a wink. 

“Tch.” He shoved Chris’ arm off him. “Don’t touch me, old man.”

“Yuri, apologize,” Victor stated.

“Yuri~, lighten up!” Mila cheered, rushing over and hefting the boy up in her arms.

“Put me down, hag!”

Her lips curled into a tight smile as she let him go. Yuri collapsed onto the ground and stumbled to upright himself. He straightened out his jacket. “You ruin this suit, you buy me a new one,” he stated. “Just wait until next year, win I win gold at the Grand Prix Final,” he exclaimed, pointing his thumb at his chest. “You’ll take me seriously then.”

Mila smiled and ruffled his hair. She crouched down like she was talking to a toddler. “Dream big, little guy.” Her gaze lifted. A mischievous smile curled her lips. “Someone’s drunk.”

Victor turned to follow her eyes. 

Yuuri stumbled forward, a bottle of champagne now in his hand. His fingers fumbled with his tie, loosening it from its tight grip around his neck. His eyes swept over the crowd until they landed on the young, blond skater at Victor’s side. He raised a wobbly finger. “You.”

“What do you want?!” 

He struggled to rip his tie off. Once he succeeded, he shoved it into his pocket. He continued on his rampage to Yuri whose eyes were wide as he tried to find a way to get away. 

Victor smiled and snuck out his phone. “Yuri,” he reprimanded with a smile, “what did you do?”

“Nothing!”

“I don’t believe it,” he said, snapping a photo as the man swayed closer and stooping to stare Yuri in the eye.

“You think you’re better?” he slurred. His face flushed with alcohol. He raised a finger and wagged it. “I don’t believe it. Nope. Don’t believe.” He spun around, arched his arms, and bent his wrists as he tried to sashay away in attempt to mimic part of Yuri’s short program. “So graceful. So talented. So young.” He turned, kicking his leg into the air as he poured more champagne into his mouth. 

“You wanna fight?” Yuri hollered, his hackles bristling. 

Yuuri shoved the champagne bottle into Victor’s hands. He struggled to juggle it without dropping his phone.

Poking a finger in the young skater’s chest, Yuuri slurred, “You’re on. Dance battle. Anytime.”

Yuri rose to the challenge. “Now!”

“Let’s go.” Yuuri stumbled away with the other skater on his heels. 

“Oh, this is just too good,” Mila laughed as she took off after them.

“Things have gotten interesting,” Chris stated, observing the scene unfolding before him. “Do you think I could convince my boyfriend to leave behind his boring conversations to grab my pole from the hotel room?”

Victor chuckled. “That I’d like to see.”

“You don’t think he would, do you?”

He shook his head. “I think he’ll draw the line there.”

Chris smirked. “You offer me a challenge. I love a good challenge. I’ll be right back to prove you wrong and claim the stage, baby.” Squeezing his arm, Chris slinked off to find his boyfriend.

Unable to stop the smile curling his lips, Victor walked through the crowd to where the two skaters currently tried to out-dance the other. Laughter bubbled up in his chest as he watched. Setting the bottle down, he unlocked his phone and snapped pictures. Yuri’s face was pulled tight in concentration as he tried to prove himself. 

Meanwhile, the older skater seemed to have lost all remembrance of the battle. His body flowed effortlessly with the music. He had shaken off his suit jacket. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and the first several buttons of his shirt had been undone. At some point, he must have slipped his tie back on his neck.

Victor shook his head and kept watching, entranced by how expressive Yuuri’s movements were. He found himself inching closer, choosing to snapshot each position of Yuuri’s body than get shots of the whole interaction. His eyes widened and studied each bend of his legs, each strain of his forearm, each stretch of his stomach. Occasionally, Yuuri’s eyes met his through his mess of hair, and Victor’s breath caught in his throat.

How was this the worried skater he saw in the videos?

How was this the man who shared a quiet early morning with him and Makkachin?

How did he have so much passion bursting from him effortlessly? He took Victor’s breath away. This Yuuri Katsuki seemed to have so many surprises tucked away, and Victor wanted to find them all.

Focusing back on his screen, Victor watched as Yuuri unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and took to dancing differently.

Yuri stood panting off to the side. Mila pat his back encouragingly. He grumbled something and wiped his forehead off on his sleeve.

Pocketing his phone, Victor stroked his chin and studied the fluid movements of Yuuri’s body. He acted as if he had already planned each movement. His body easily flowing into each step with the music, creating a new harmony and layer that could only be heard by focusing on him.

Victor began mimicking him before he could stop himself. He remained half a second behind Yuuri. He felt his limbs stiff and reserved as he tried to find the dance. He took a step out as Yuuri pulled in, wrapping his arms around himself and glancing seductively over his shoulder. He kept going against what Victor anticipated, but it felt so much livelier a performance because of it. His heart raced and pounded as he danced, throwing his body and heart into keeping up with Yuuri. A smile tugged at his lips.

And then.

Yuuri’s arms were around his waist. His fingers ghosted across his wrists, guiding his arms.

He glanced out the corner of his eyes, meeting Yuuri’s dark gaze. It felt warm and welcoming and challenging. It was thrilling.

His heart soared. His stomach swooped. Giddiness bubbled up in him.

He spun and dipped backwards. Victor’s arm came up to cup Yuuri’s shoulder, his leg rising.

Yuuri held onto his leg; his fingers were firm and strong. He leaned forward, his nose just brushing against Victor’s. His eyes squinted in joy as he laughed. 

Victor couldn’t help it; his face crinkled in happiness. He hadn’t had this much fun…He couldn’t remember. If only this feeling, if only this could last when he was on the ice. 

Guiding Victor upright, Yuuri pressed their foreheads together and entwined their fingers. He spun them together, gliding across the floor. His hot breath poured over Victor’s face. 

Victor had no need for alcohol. He was intoxicated on this moment. Every place Yuuri touched blazed with life. He was drawn into his presence. Yuuri sucked him in, capturing his attention and hooking all of Victor’s desires on him. 

Chris’ whoop bellowed through the banquet hall. 

Blushing, Victor tripped over his feet. He turned to face Chris’ grin. He pointed to where his boyfriend had recruited help in setting up his pole. Victor rolled his eyes. He had actually managed to wrangle the man into. Chris was already taking off his tie.

“Victor?” Yuuri’s voice drifted to him, stirring the fire in his belly. His nose pressed into Victor’s hair as he tried to look around him at what had drawn his attention.

Victor sucked in a deep breath. His heart stilled.

“A pole?” Yuuri asked. He tugged at Victor’s, spinning him around. His brows were straight, his gaze steady. “Watch me, Victor.”

He swallowed thickly.

His gaze faltered ever so slightly. “Will you watch me?”

Victor nodded. “My eyes won’t leave you.” His voice was rough and low; it lodge in his throat and he had to fight to get it out.

Yuuri gave him a curt nod and strutted towards Chris and the pole. He quickly followed Chris’ example and stripped off his pants. The thick muscles in his thighs stretched taut under his skin.

Victor’s mouth went dry. His fingers clamped tight at his sides as Yuuri spoke to Chris before pulling himself up onto the pole, continuing to dance carelessly, effortlessly, enchantingly. He shuffled closer. Out the corner of his eye he registered Yuri filming everything happening; his hand clamped over his mouth and his eyes wide.

Chris leapt onto the pole having freed himself from all his clothes except his underwear while Yuuri stumbled to the side and rid himself of his shirt.

_ How does he stay so collected when he’s so drunk? _ Victor wondered.

As if Victor’s body wasn’t shutting down on him already, Yuuri joined Chris on the pole. He cradled his body in his arms; Chris fully trusted the arms holding him up. He was smiling, thoroughly enjoying himself. Their bodies arched around the pole as if they had gathered together beforehand to discuss their routine. When more champagne entered the scene, Victor had to cover his mouth and bite down on his tongue. 

He should look away.

But he couldn’t.

His eyes couldn’t leave Yuuri Katsuki’s body. It was beautiful.

Slipping from the pole, Yuuri struggled to yank his tie off again, but it got stuck on his head. His hair puffed around the fabric. Pouting, Yuuri ignored it and slipped his shirt back on. Chris had also dropped from the pole and tugged his pants back on. He walked over to Victor and smacked him on the shoulder.

“I take back what I said earlier. Not so innocent.” He winked. “Nice choice. A bit sad I didn’t see him first.”

Victor only managed a grunt in recognition.

Yuuri turned and spotted him. A wide grin stretched across his face, and Victor’s heart stuttered. 

Sprinting towards him, he launched himself at Victor and latched his arms around his middle. He wiggled, squirming like an overexcited child. Red stained his cheeks, and Victor felt his own face growing hot.

“My family owns a hot springs in Hasetsu,” he began to ramble, inviting Victor over to stay and relax there. Suddenly, he jumped up and squeezed tighter. Victor managed to catch something about winning a dance competition before four words rang through his ears and banged around his head. “Be my coach, Victor!” 

Victor blinked. He knew he was blushing now. He became acutely aware of the warm pressure of Yuuri against him.

Coach?

Coach Yuuri Katsuki?

A small smile twitched at the corner of his lips.  _ Well, if Makkachin condones it... _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hot damn. I still have no idea how the fuck the pole just magically appeared. I figured Chris was the best source. And, seeing how pro he was at it, I figured he wouldn't go anywhere for a long period of time without a pole to work out his stress on. 
> 
> Does anyone have any idea on what Chris' potential boyfriend's (I think we've all come to accept that's who he is as fact?) name is? That man must have so much patience and a great ability at handling Chris' wild antics.
> 
> I also fully believe that Victor and Chris are the bestest bros. 
> 
> I hoped you all enjoyed!


End file.
